Cassette 6: Summer 1996/Transcript
This is the official transcript for the episode which can also be accessed for free at'' patreon.com/withinthewires. Minor edits have been made for accuracy, these are listed at the bottom of the page.''SIDE A Sigrid, such wonderful news to share with you. Perhaps you have read it already. Our Sunday Island branch of The Cradle has warded off a police raid, and not a single death or serious injury to be reported. The families had to move quickly in the night, as the police regrouped and doubled their forces. Fortunately, Jure had provided Sunday Island not only with rifles, but a boat. He had warned us ahead of time that police had planned to target all known transport for destruction. They found a narrow cove to draw the boat in and cover with branches so that it would be unseen by human eye. When Jure received information from his contacts of an impending raid, he signaled Sunday Island and they were ready. The Cradle families made their way east toward Jones Bay to find a new home. They are not yet safe, and may need to move further inland, but without our growing network, the Sunday Island family might be dead, imprisoned, or worse. The IID’s unsuccessful assault on the Cradle, however, brought with it no news coverage, which is disheartening, but only slightly so given the lives that we have saved. The Cradle is expanding globally, every day. It is in no small thanks to Jure, of course, but also to you and to me, and to everyone in Hedmark. I might even thank the Western European police for arresting me two years ago. Without that disruption, I would never have left Europe. I would never have traveled to North America and the Indian subcontinent and Australia. I would never have met the many families seeking refuge from our oppressive regime. And I would never have written my book. I enclosed a few copies of it for you, Sigrid – I’ve called it The Hand. I hope you enjoy it. Surely you will let me know if you have anything to add to it. It is still an ever-changing document about how to run an organization in the way of The Cradle. I intend to reprint updated versions every year or so. It contains my own words of wisdom, practical guidance, rules, recipes, everything I could think of to help our cousins, brothers, sisters, children across the globe start and manage their own Cradles. I will send more copies when I can. Money is a bit tight these days, as many of those I help cannot pay me except with good hospitality. But as they grow their flocks, they will collect membership, and as they welcome more citizens who have been well-integrated into the Society, they will be able to sell goods and services. The Cradle has never dealt in money, but if we are to ever be accepted by the Society, we will need it. And we will one day be accepted. Jure has heard that some politicians are pushing bills to decriminalize those who live outside of the Society. According to his government contacts there is some sympathy for our cause – which he, of course, is helping to spread. His last visit to Hedmark did not go well, Sigrid, and I understand from your letters that you tried. You tried very much to welcome him, but you must try harder. Or you must try differently. It does not much matter if you ensure he is given only the best of our food, if you dress up his living quarters with our most lavish furniture, if you cannot also ensure that other members of our community are going to treat him with the respect he deserves. Which, as my emissary, is a huge amount of respect. In my absence you are the parent now. You are the Cradle's leader. You cannot always be nice to everyone. You cannot agree with all sides. Sometimes there is a wrong answer. As humans we intend to keep life as it has always been. That's the core intention of The Cradle's existence, to preserve families, when Society changed them so severely, so quickly. But change is still good. We cannot be dogmatic about conservatism. We can only be moral arbiters of what is right and wrong. And Jure is right. I am right. Society is wrong, Sigrid. When you are against Jure, you are against me. You are with Society. I obviously ask that you don’t share these messages with anyone, but I think it would be helpful to the group if you let them know how helpful Jure has been to our far off cousins. Tell OleOle's name was misspelled as "Ore" of the assistance he provided, make sure Bern and Anya know of his deeds. This will help them see beyond the ends of their own noses, I think. And so who was it that led the charge to remove Jure from our grounds? Lisette? Lisette, I believe. It is easy to understand why Lisette struggled, it is easy to empathise with her position. I see that you have found it easy to empathise. After all, she had her children stripped from her fingers by armed soldiers. She does not trust outsiders. Compassion must be granted to Lisette for all that she has been through. But it cannot just be handed to her. You don't dole out empathy like soup Sigrid. You keep it to yourself in this case. You use it to greater understand how to truly help Lisette and everyone else in your charge, without pandering to their superficial needs. Empathy is a tool to be wielded, not a gift to be handed out freely. Your open door to understanding for Lisette only emboldens her dissent. And while her feelings come from a righteous place, they are harmful to her, and to the rest of the family. She must be protected from her own history, her own intuition. And she must be taught to recognise truth when she sees it. When you were a baby, Sigrid, you loved toffee. I put a little touch of toffee on the tip of your tongue and you winced. You didn't know what to make of this sticky soft food that held to your lips and tiny teeth. I laughed as you struggled your tongue around the candy, swishing it around your mouth. Everything about its substance violated your sense of what was edible. It was nothing like pureed carrots or apples. It was nothing like anything you had ever put in your mouth, but it was oh so sweet. Too afraid of what it was to swallow it, but too enraptured by the sugar to spit it out, you let it linger in your cheeks as it slowly dissolved. And for about two minutes I watched your face melt from shock to satisfaction to pure bliss. You giggled and hummed and swung your arms as if searching the skies for more toffee. It was the happiest I had ever seen you, and it was the happiest I had ever felt with you, to that point, and I wanted those two minutes to last forever, But they cannot. Toffee is something to delight a child, but it cannot sustain a child. You demanded more of the candy, and I had to refuse you it. It would not have been in your best interest to eat toffee, even if your intentions were pure and good. Even if your feelings were true to you. What happens if those soldiers show up again for Lisette and her boys? And they will. They will arrive again some day. We must be prepared. Your hugs and nods and sympathetic eyes to your flock will not save them then. Sure you make them feel better, and you in turn feel better because no one is angry with you for denying their emotional needs. But it helps nothing, Sigrid. So I ask that you hand out the copies of The Hand to our following for this month's sermon. I ask that you take a harder stance in welcoming Jure into Hedmark. And share with your family the joy of its growth and its strength. I love you, Sigrid. More importantly, I believe in you. SIDE B Glorious day to you all. Praise to the mother, for she creates life. Praise to the father, for he supports life. Praise to nature, for nature is life. You should have received copies of The Hand, a text I have written for Cradles across the world. The Hand has instructions for farming and hunting, for survival and secrecy, but above all, The Hand contains stories of faithfulness, stories of family, stories of fortitude, stories of fulfillment, stories to guide us all in our daily lives outside of Society. For today's congregation, I would like to read to you a passage from Book Five, Section 18: The Hibernation Tale. "Along the edge of the forest abutting Lac Saint-Pierre, I sat with a woman named Helene and her son Jean. Jean, an infant, drank lazily from his mother under an unusually warm autumn sun. A cool breeze from the northeast rattled the trees, and a great heron slunk low over the edge of the water hunting in vain for trout. "Helene shared with me stories of survival, of feeding a campground full of children each winter. The long winters along the lake were especially brutal. Early snow storms and compounded ice coverage depleted crops by mid December. Many of the deer, rabbits and wild turkeys were gone by then as well. These animals and their offspring would not reemerge until early April. "As humans, Helene and her people knew how to keep chickens and preserve sausages and grains to survive. The Cradle cannot purchase cans from stores, and to steal from a market would draw great attention for such a minor transgression. So it is necessary in cold climates to fill the stock before winter shelter. "Some of her Cradle did not do their part to prepare for the snow and ice, but would equally take their share of what others had gathered. How to educate these families? Helene asked if punishment would address their sins, and if so, how severely to punish them? "'We do not have money in our Cradle,' Helene said. "'Nor should you,' I replied. 'Money is a tool of oppression, not just of spirit but of nature. For we replace the value of animal flesh and vegetation with coins. We replace our labor and effort with worthless paper. And these symbols of capital become the only thing we seek. We become numb to our own bodies, our own souls.' "'We do not have a prison nor a judge,' Helene said. "'Nor should you,' I repeated. 'Judgment is for nature and nature alone.' "'So then what of these people,' Helene said. "I thought for a moment. What of the faithless who do not give to the community, yet take its bounty? What of the faithless who would choose to steal over plan? What of the faithless who divide our loyalties, by letting us down? "In the small community where I was raised, and that which I now lead, I have never encountered those who do not wish to hunt or forage or garden, who do not wish to put their bodies into the world for the greater family. Yet, have I not encountered the faithless? "Perhaps it is not in terms of winter food, as Helene's Cradle. Perhaps our faithlessness betrays us in other ways. We do not choose to protect ourselves. We are averse to violence, as we should be, but non-violence is a dangerous message from the Society. The Society says "All violence is bad, unless it is our violence." "Set down your arms, so that we may collect them," says the Society. "Sometimes our faith is in those who wish to do us harm. Sometimes, that faith blinds us to the duty of our family, our tribe, our people. "I turned to Helene and said, 'Faith. If we do not instill our followers with belief in family, they cannot live properly within a family.' "Helene nodded, but before she could reply, we heard a noise from behind us, in the trees. We were startled, yet we did not move, only watched as a black bear emerged from behind a row of brittle, nearly naked maples. "The bear's fur was matted, its belly narrow from hunger. It poked about at the trunk of a tree, before rising onto its hind legs and shaking the branches. Nothing fell. "The bear turned to see us, and Helene stood. She held Jean with one arm. She raised her other arm in the air, waving it back and forth. Helene shouted and growled, but the bear did not move. I watched Helene trust her own skills for frightening off an animal that usually avoids humans. But hunger had given the bear courage. It walked in a low crouch toward Helene and her child. I feared for my own life as well as those of Helene and Jean. "Helene soon realized the bear would not back down, and I saw her lose faith in her approach. I joined her in warding off the bear, raising my arms and my voice. The bear stopped to consider me but did not back down. 'Keep shouting' I told Helene, and she did, but the bear, only feet from us, reared back, raising its sharp claws and bellowing. "We were certain to die, to become the bear's last, vital meal before hibernation. To perish at the hand of nature is certainly noble, but that judgment is not easy to accept. How ironic, too, that as we talked of those who would slough off their early winter responsibilities, our lives would be stolen by a lazy and selfish bear. "Jean began to cry in Helene's arm. She had to lower her other arm to nestle him, and ultimately protect him. I knew I must double my efforts, to shield the young mother with my long arms and huge shouts. "But before I could change my stance, the bear lowered itself, leaned forward, now only feet from Helene. It sniffed up at her chest, her crossed arms holding back her baby. The bear acknowledged the sobbing, flailing Jean. It took two steps back and then turned around. It walked slowly back into the woods, and we were once again alone in the clearing. "Helene turned to me, and said, nearly without breath, 'It is only family that can protect us.' "I had no better reply, and we returned to the campground for dinner." My Cradle, my dear dear family. We have but each other to save ourselves. Thank you and bless you for reading along with me this story. I ask that over your own dinner tonight, you gather together and discuss what faithlessness you can change in yourselves, what areas of weakness there are in your commitment to our family. Think about what protection you can provide your sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers and cousins, what food you can hunt or grow, how you can support ourselves and our guests. We are all in this together. And while I am not there with you, I am still with you, and I have provided you some protection. Jure will return to you, and he will help our family as he has helped our family across the world. I ask only that you believe in me. I am your family. Errors Category:Transcripts